


Consume

by therapist



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassination, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dark, Death, F/M, Miscarriage, Not Beta Read, Not Happy, OC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Corypheus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Trespasser, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow To Update, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therapist/pseuds/therapist
Summary: Series of events cause the Inquisitor to stray from her righteous path and into the darkness. Cullen and those closest to her try to save her but they can only save those that want to be saved. Post-Corypheus, pre-Trespasser





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wowee! This is my first foray into Dragon Age. This story has been on my mind for a while and I finally decided to post it! Please forgive any mistakes as this is not beta read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or am I making money. This is purely for entertainment purposes

 

* * *

 

 

She had heard before that life rarely matched dreams and that person was correct. Life had laughed at her dreams and decided that she would get nothing. Though many would argue about her perceptions of nothingness - after all, she had her life and Corypheus was dead - but there were reminders everywhere that though she had won, she had ultimately lost. All she had received from this was pain, death, and no - the mark flared as if reminding her of its existence. _Of course_...It was once a useful tool, a reminder of defiance against those that threatened the world. But now...now, it was a reminder of her past and the source of current agony. Once the pain had been enough to make her grimace but now instead of gentle waves crescendoing, it was like the waters of Storm Coast, constantly crashing, violent and debilitating.

The mark remained and it was growing stronger and more unstable. It's frequency to flare up had increased to the point where she could hardly rest beyond a few moments. Even during the fighting, she had not known exhaustion to this level. Luckily, it hasn't flared in the presence of anyone else but she didn't think she would be able to hide it much longer. Looking at the eerie green glow, she knew she would have another attack soon. It was too long since her last one.

This constant awareness plus lack of sleep had put a strain on her and her relationships, especially with Cullen - he didn't know the source of her exhaustion. Bless the Gods, he was trying to be helpful but it was infuriating. Careful hands, thoughtful words, most would be thrilled to be treated as Cullen was treating her. But to her, it was patronizing. Even though she knew, really _knew_ , that he was genuinely being helpful and not pitying her, she couldn't control her thoughts nor her anger. She had fought through everything life had thrown at her, survived, she wasn't a delicate flower that withered at slight resistance. Every time the harsh words were at the tip of her tongue, she looks at his eager, loving face and her anger dissipates, only to swell once alone.

A slight groan turned her attention to the subject of her thoughts. Despite the initial difficulty of his lyrium withdrawal, Cullen had made an amazing recovery. The temptation would always remain he said but now it didn't consume his every thought or dreams. Gentle snores told her that his sleep was easy tonight, unlike hers. Sparks flared and she grasped her hand tightly, nails harshly digging into her wrists. The pain from her nails did little to quell the pain but it distracted her enough. Eventually, the mark settled down and she released her hand. Blood beaded from crescent-shaped wounds and she wiped it on her leather-clad thigh.

Skyhold was silent, as it has been since she had excused half of her army. Those with families, those that wanted to return home, or those just weary of fighting, she had dismissed them with enough gold to thank them for their service. Between that and all the nobles leaving, Skyhold was usually quite silent. Perhaps the largest contribution to the silence was her the loss of her companions. Most had stayed after Corypheus's defeat but eventually, they had returned to their own lives. And with them gone, Skyhold had lost its brightness and life. Initially, she had welcomed the silence but now, the emptiness had pervaded every stone and made the fortress seem larger than it already was. One positive was that she could stroll the grounds at night without being intercepted or bombarded. Grabbing her daggers, she kissed Cullen on the forehead before leaving her room.

In the hall, her door echoed loudly as she shut it behind her. Along with her boots clicking on the floor, this was the noisiest Skyhold has been in a while. Without the decorations, the grey stone seemed much colder and uninviting.

While most decorations, flags, and accessories had been taken down/given away, one thing she had requested to stay was the sparring ring. The training dummies sat in the middle, silent in their greeting. All the political fanfare, galas, diplomatic mission, had made her neglectful in training. _A life without Corypheus has made me careless_. Though she could hear Cullen or even Josephine tell her that a life without Corypheus meant she wouldn't have to keep up with her brutal training.

The Way of the Assassins wasn't a skill she could ever forget despite others urging her to do so now that the war was over. The handles of her blades felt familiar and she could _feel_ its intent behind it. After all, as her master had taught her, the weapon is an extension of herself, for she is one with the blade. Those few weeks of training under Heir were brutal. She was not a kind teacher but then again, if she was, she doubts she would've been an effective instructor. The Inquisitor had many scars from the war but the largest ones were from her instructor. The one spanning from her abdomen to her lower back taught her to never celebrate victories early. She may have forgotten the origin of her other scars but never the ones from her master.

After warming up her muscles, she began with her beginner stances. Legs apart, knees bent slightly, she concentrated on practiced movements her muscles remembered. Honestly, the motions came easily and soon she began to practice her specialized moves. Besides Twin Fangs, her other favorite move was Hidden Blades. Springing back, she concentrated and flung the knife, a dull thunk letting her know she hit her target. She watched as her shadows made quick work of the target before it fell apart, ruined. She huffed as exhaustion made her breathe harder, her body ache, and sweat bead all over herself. Hoping to work herself till exhaustion, she attacked the other dummies. Lashing out, her left blade slashed across the neck before the right blade came on the opposite direction. Using Deathblow, she struck the chest quickly with her left, followed by the right blade. Turning to her last training dummy, she imagines a faceless enemy. The enemy slashed at her but she ducked, watching as he swung his left arm and sword toward her. She blocked a blow with her right forearm, her left fist connecting with her opponent's stomach before her legs swept them off their feet. Quickly pouncing, she plunged both blades into her opponent's chest. Sufficiently drained of stamina, she let her head fall against the scratchy stuffing blooming from the dummy's chest, her knives stuck in deep. Sweat dripped off her and she pushed away her clinging hair from her face. Her muscles everywhere burned and she was thoroughly tired. _Maybe now I can sleep._

Her eyelids drooped and she positioned herself so that she was laying flat on the ground, using the remnants of the dummy as her pillow. Josephine would scold her if she slept outside on the ground - she could hear her admonishing tone, _You are the Inquisitor, what will the nobles think!_ \- but lack of sleep had made her not care what those stuffy, condescending nobles thought of her. With the silence surrounding her, she knew sleep was coming fast.

The mark flared, snapping her out of her hazy sleep.

"Fuck!" she cried, grasping her hand. The area glowed green as arcs of green lightning spewed forth from her hand. The pain though...the pain was excruciating. Thousand of needles stabbed at her hand, the sensation radiating up her arm. An intense burning type of pain focused on her palm, making her look down to see if it was on fire. Dizziness overtook her as the pain increased in strength, making her nauseous. _Mana ma halani Mythal..._ time stretched on with no decrease in intensity nor sign of it stopping. Besides the pain, her anger and frustration began to rise. Grabbing a dagger, she yelled as she slammed it into her palm, right into the mark. A scream tore from her lips as her flesh gave way to the dagger. Tears sprung forth as she clutched her hand, blood spilling forth freely from the wound. The Mark had settled down, the green glow fading to reveal the aftermath. The pain had died down, the burning and stinging now localized to where her flesh was pierced. A sob tore from her throat as she looked at her self-inflicted wound.

"Inquisitor!"

"El!"

Strong arms wrapped around her - _Cullen_ \- as others rushed to her aid.

"Were you attacked?"

"Send the healer!"

"What happened?"

Yells were happening all around and El found herself being lifted into Cullen's arms. A healer appeared and took her injured hand gently.

Leliana appeared with a puff of smoke. "Inquisitor, I need to know if you were attacked." Despite her calm voice, she could see Leliana's eyes surveying everything.

El shook her head, before saying it was an accident. Those sharp eyes gazed at her wound but said nothing else before disappearing. Cullen dismissed the others besides the healer, but El could hear their confusion and disbelief. Even to her, her excuse sounded weak.

"An accident? When has the Inquisitor ever made a mistake like this?"

"Do you think she's lying?"

"Shh, not here."

Though try as she might, she could hear every disbelieving thought uttered and she tried not letting it affect her, but it was hard. She had fought to change people's perceptions about elves, to be inspiring as The Hero of Ferelden and for a while, she had achieved that goal but now she could see those things slipping away. Lack of sleep and being injured had weakened her beyond the physical aspect, weariness seeped into every part of her body. Even after beating Corypheus, saving the world, one event has brought doubt upon her. It was discouraging. She asked Cullen to take her to the infirmary, away from prying eyes and before she ruined herself even more so than she already has.

He did as she asked, his hold gentle and steps light as to not jostle her too much. She was thankful for that as each shake sent jolts of pain radiating from her hand. Blood dribbled down her arm and she grimaced at the amount she was dripping all over the place. When finally inside the infirmary, Cullen eased her onto a cot but didn't release her, instead he grabbed her free non-injured hand.

The healer, Kya, knelt before her and inspected the wound without touching it. Gently, she lifted her palm to inspect the underside of the wound, the dagger protruding about a few inches. El watched as blood rivulets streamed down the forged metal, her blood a stark contrast from the dragon bone used to craft the blade. The pain had faded to a dull thud but it was much more manageable than when the anchor was flaring. The fact that the anchor had all but _stopped_ any sort of activity had surprised and worried her. She didn't understand what was going on.

"Inquisitor?" Kya's melodious voice interrupted her musings. Focusing back to her healer, she could see worry behind her eyes. "I will need to remove this before administering the healing potion and then I will heal the rest. I pull the dagger at the count to five."

Nodding in affirmation, she clutched Cullen's hand tightly as Kya began to count while grasping the dagger's grip firmly. At three Kya had pulled out, eliciting a scream of shock and pain from her. A potion was thrust quickly into her hand and she quickly chugged the healing potion. The bitter medicine made her gag but she kept it down. She could feel its effects happening as the pain dissipated and was replaced with that odd sensation of her flesh mending radiated from her hand. The sensation of mending flesh was always odd, it wasn't painful but it wasn't without discomfort. Kya examined the newly mended flesh, humming in approval. Before releasing her hand, she waved her staff over her hand, the orb resting on the perch glowing slightly. Seemingly satisfied, Kya gave a slight nod before allowing her to withdraw her hand.

She gave Kya a sincere smile. "Thank you, Kya. For your timely help."

Cullen cleared his throat and offered thanks as well as Kya bowed before exiting. "Perhaps now you'd like to speak of what really happened," he questioned, eyes full of worry.

At his words, her irritation rose but she ignored those feelings and plastered on a practiced smile. "It was like I had said, an accident."

At her placating answer and tone, Cullen rose to his feet, irritated. "Don't lie to me El! I'm not one of your recruits that you need to pretend to!"

His words had affected her and she hated how _transparent_ she was to him. It made her feel vulnerable. In fact, it had made her feel like how she was with Solas. The mage had a presence to him that always made her feel exposed and with how that relationship had ended...she didn't want the same thing to happen. Just thinking about Solas made her chest ache and she could feel the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to reveal all of her secrets. _Cullen is NOT Solas!_ That mantra repeated within her mind but even she could hear the hesitancy within her words.

While she was usually open with Cullen, thinking of Solas had made her suddenly apprehensive about sharing so much of herself again. The wound that she long thought closed had reopened some ugly scars that haven't healed properly. And try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from protecting her heart.

Instead of explaining, she turned to anger because anger was easy. "I know that Cullen! There is nothing to say because I _fell_ and this was the result of my carelessness!"

The disapproving look he tossed at her nearly broke her resolve. "You want me to believe that you fell onto your dagger?" His disbelief clearly evident in his voice.

All it did was stir her anger until her chest and face burned. She rose to her feet, anger drowning out logic, and she got into his space. Despite towering over her, she let her anger and pain give her confidence, however, misplaced it was. "We're done," she hissed before activating Stealth. She faded into the shadows, and Cullen punched the wall, frustration clearly marked all over his face.

El slipped through the opened window, sticking to the shadows. Not wanting to return to the room she shared with her lover, she debating about leaving Skyhold to regain control of...everything. She could already feel the anger's effects fading, leaving her with rising guilt. _It's all too much._

But she didn't leave because she knew it was dangerous for her to roam by herself especially now she was quite famous. Before she had anonymity, she was just another 'knife ear', indiscernible from the thousand of other elves. Now that she was parading around the other kingdoms - at the behest of others - she could hardly go anywhere without being recognized. It was...different and potentially dangerous as Leliana had informed her. There were many out there that hated the Inquisition and thought of her as someone dangerous. There were others with family killed by the fighting and most likely blamed her. And not to forget that many still believed that she had murdered Justinia despite numerous testimonies proclaiming her innocence.

No, wandering outside of the castle walls by herself was not something she can do. Despite her anger and desire to escape, her self-preservation was still intact. Instead, she headed down to the dungeon. Though it could've housed many, most enemies that were captured were either recruited, exiled, or executed. These days, it was just another empty room. _With a bed at least._

She appeared from the shadows, pulling open the bars and the metal groaning loudly before she collapsed onto the cot. Surprisingly comfortable, she prayed for some rest. Between training, injuring herself, and her fight with Cullen, she was drained and felt she could sleep for days. Trying to keep from thinking about all that was going wrong, she counted the bricks on the walls. The dull task was doing its job and she could feel herself succumbing to sleep. Her last conscious thought was that she hoped tomorrow would be a better day.

 

* * *

 

Footsteps woke her from a deep sleep and contemplated for a moment before closing her eyes again. Sleep was on the edge again. Gentle hands shook her arm lightly and she could barely hold back her groan of disappointment.

"Inquisitor," a male voice whispered.

Eyes snapped open as her brain processed that this voice was unfamiliar. Jumping to her feet, she startles the young elf, nearly making him drop the cup he's clutching.

"Who are you?" She questioned, hoping to sound more authoritative than frightened. She kept the quiver out of her voice, mostly.

The elf, in turn, had back up, bowing his head and proffering the cup up to her. "Forgive me, Inquisitor, I didn't mean to startle you. Healer Kya sent me to deliver you this medicine. She said it was to be taken to prevent infection."

Hearing his explanation, she relaxed a bit before giving him an apology and offered him a smile. Taking the cup, she regarded the red liquid before drinking it. Unlike the healing potion, this one wasn't bitter and was slightly sweet. She handed back the empty cup and the boy bowed again before leaving.

A loud yawn overtook her and she settled back into her cot before sleep overtook her again.

 

* * *

 

El gasped as she woke. Heart hammering in her chest, her body was covered in sweat despite it being cool down here.

Nightmares were a common occurrence but it was never this quite lifelike nor intense. She had dreamt she was in the Fade again, but this time it was her being left behind. The Nightmare demon had tortured her and before she could die, she had woken up. She could still feel its claws digging into her stomach, rending her flesh from bone. A harsh pain burst forth where he had slashed and El fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. A pathetic whine left her lips as the pain continued and for a brief moment, she wondered if she was still dreaming. The pain eventually dissipated but it left her confused and frankly, scared. Her chest squeezed as her breath clawed to escape her throat and she grasped her pants, trying to quell the panic and fear rising within herself. _Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, just a dream…_ The chant repeated, keeping her fear allayed and her breath and heartbeat settled down to normal; she had collapsed afterward, spent.

_What was that?_ This was something new and with another pang of pain, her traitorous mind missed Solas. He was usually her first stop whenever she had a question or wanted knowledge. Between his soothing voice and brilliant mind, she often found herself in his rotunda often, usually to listen whilst he read or if he was painting, she would read quietly on the couch. The loss of that plus the end of their relationship had hurt her deeply. The abrupt nature of their breakup had cast doubt over everything she had ever done. _Was it something she said/did? Was it because she had removed her vallaslin?_ Millions of questions swarmed her and caused her to reflect on every action she had taken. It made her question herself and her ideals. To say she was broken would be an understatement, she was left shattered. she picked up the pieces one by one and put herself back together. Carefully, she did it but as anyone knew, once something is broken, it can never be fully mended to its original shape. It had made her a much more cautious and wary person.

Until Cullen showed her differently. And she was pushing him away like Solas had done to her. A groan left her lips as she remembered her actions and words. Why is this so hard for me? Cullen was easy to love. Even before starting a relationship with him, just talking and flirting with him...she had seen why many women fawned over him. Dashing, handsome, brave, his good qualities were endless but the best part was that his heart was good. Like many others, he had done wrong in his past but he, unlike many others, had learned from his actions, from his mistakes even readily admitted it to her. It was...inspiring and made her admire him even more. That admiration didn't fade even when she was with Solas. _And I am screwing this up._

Now a little calmer, she noticed the residual pain in her stomach, exactly where she had felt that previous pain. Not sharp pain like the one from her Anchor, more muted but still noticeable. While she would've ignored such a pain, with her previous attack, it had her worried. However, before she could see the healer, she knew she had to see Cullen. At the very least to apologize. She cringed, embarrassed as she remembered again her last words to him.

The sky was dark when she entered the hall, it was eerily quiet and devoid of people. _How long was I sleeping?_ Her room and his were empty. It was then that she noticed that all of Skyhold was silent. No animals, no patrols walking and talking, nothing but silence filled her ears. The bubbling panic that was simmering, roared with each empty room she found as she desperately searched for someone, anyone. _Where is everyone?_

In her panicked search, she ended up someplace she had avoided these past few months. The rotunda. It made sense, her panicked mind had sent to someplace that offered her comfort. Despite her initial panic, she found her mind and body relaxing as she gazed upon the murals. Though it wasn't as elaborate or ornate as ones she had seen in Winter Palace, each piece was brilliant. The detail in each painting was meticulous and she would always look at them in equal parts of wonder and envy. Having no talent for anything considered artistic, she marveled at how someone could take a concept, idea, or anything and create it by using his or her hands. Which is the reason why she had found herself in Solas's company many times. At first, he was hesitant to let her watch and even she admitted, it was prying and intimate. However, he accepted, once she promised to be silent. And despite everything that had happened between them, she was glad to have been able to witness his process. Seeing him engrossed in his work, how graceful his movements were, even seeing him make mistakes was revealing to her. This was where she had learned more about him than every conversation she had with him.

"Inquisitor…"

_Oh no…_

Like a ghost that was haunting her, it wasn't enough that he had invaded her thoughts but now he was _here_ , so close to her. Though he was behind her she made no effort to turn around. Instead, she ignored him, willing for it to be her imagination, even though she just _knew_ he was there. She also ignored the rush of pleasure she got just from hearing him. _This is not happening...not now..._ Between her distress, her pain, and her rekindled feelings, she knew she couldn't do this now. Rushing forth, she opened the door that led to the outer walkway that led to Cullen's office/bedroom. She ignored his surprised gasp or shock or whatever noise he made and ran blindly. _I just need to make it outside of Skyhold!_ Leaping over the stone walkway right outside the door, her stomach flopped as fell to the ground. Before her feet touched the grass, she slowed down, much to her confusion. Solas rematerialized before her, staff in one hand and the other hand guiding her to the ground. He looked...handsome, as always, which made her chest ache. Gone were his simple robes, replaced by thick furs that made him look regal.

"Solas…" She hated her voice trembled.

He replied with a kind smile. One she had seen many times when they were alone. "Eliana."

The timbre in his voice made her shiver. A memory of how he whispered her name while taking her filled her mind. With her face red, she turned away from him. "Why are you here Solas?"

A chuckle escaped him. "Much like that first time you invaded my dreams, it seems you have done it again." His smile faded. "And I could hear you calling out."

"What do you mean calling out?"

"I sensed you were in pain, pleading for help."

Her eyes close at his admission. It must've been when she had stabbed herself. "But why did you come?" How was this night different from the other nights she had cried herself to sleep, desperate for him to come back and give her answers. To know that he could have reached out this entire time but didn't...it hurt. She bit her lip to keep from lashing out, knowing that it wouldn't matter even though she would feel so much better.

Coming into her periphery, she could see his worried gaze. "It's the anchor." It wasn't a question. How he knew baffled her. His calloused hands gently grasped her left hand, before he closed his eyes. Though she had no magical talent, she could sense the energy in the air. "It's getting worse."

"It hurts all the time," she confessed. Relief flooded through her as the words tumbled out of her mouth. It was cathartic to tell someone. There was a small niggling part in her brain that informed her that she didn't even tell Cullen yet. Ignoring that voice, she looked at Solas. "What's happening to me?"

A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he looked much older and tired. "I do not know. I was worried something like this might happen and have been looking for a solution."

"But you haven't found anything," she finished.

A shake of his head confirmed her question. "Time, such a fickle mistress. No one has escaped her clutches even me." He ended with a deep sigh. "However, I believe that I can temporarily help if you'd allow me."

She nodded and tried to still her rapid beating heart as he stepped closer to her. His scent, one that reminded her of the forest, invaded her senses and she suppressed herself from sighing. It reminded her of home, of her clan, which brought on a whole new fresh wave of pain. Reports from Leliana had revealed that it was Duke Antoine of Wycome that had ordered the attack that had wiped out her clan. Though Leliana had offered to do _something_ , she had declined at the time - it was before the fight with Corypheus - and she always wondered if she had made the right decision. The pain of losing them had never faded nor had her anger.

Sensing a change her, he stepped back. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Shaking her head angrily, she wiped away a few errant tears that managed to appear. "Just thinking about the past. How it's supposed to teach us lessons but I must be a fool if I don't see a lesson from death and annihilation."

Rough calloused fingers wiped away those that her fingers missed. "You are strong da'len. You have fought through more than anyone else and have emerged victorious."

Her eyes met his, her hard stare and his sharp yet soft gaze. "Did I? I lost everything."

His hands slipped away at her words. "You have found someone that loves you…"

"Like you couldn't," she finished coolly. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them before she let out an irritated sigh. "Fenedhis lasa! Statues are less stubborn and would offer more information!"

That made him chuckle, a sound she still enjoyed hearing. "You'll hear no argument from me. But it looks like our time is coming to an end."

She looked around in confusion. _How does he know that?_

"Let me help you at least before I leave. One of many apologies and favors I owe to you." He invaded her space again and she watched as he waved his staff over her, only to pause on her stomach. He frowned before slipping back to a neutral face.

"What is it?"

"I...do not know da'len. There is something wrong." His uncertainty was alarming and she felt herself starting to panic.

"What's wrong?"

"Eliana...I thi-"

 

* * *

 

Her eyes snapped open as the first wave of nausea hit her. Rolling over, she spewed her food onto the stone floor. She could barely cringe as the vomit splashed back onto her face and she coughed as half-digested food scratched her throat. The cramping didn't ease up and she could feel nausea rising. Trying to keep it down, she pulled herself to her feet. Only to have the room spin. Crashing into the wall, she moaned pitifully as her stomach cramped again. She gripped the edges of her cot and helped herself to the floor. Feeling the bile rise again, she heaved the rest of her stomach contents onto the floor and on herself. And she kept heaving though there was nothing left in her stomach. The cramps didn't cease but increased in intensity, making tears stream down her face.

Curling into a fetal position, she sobbed as wave after wave of roiling pain stabbed at her abdomen. When the pain didn't recede, she knew she needed help. Gritting her teeth, she wiped her tears away and struggled to her feet. She braced herself on the wall, glad that at least the vertigo was gone.

Each step she took was agony and gasped as a fresh bout of pain crashed over her. Every move made her stomach scream in pain and she wanted to pass out. She punched the wall in frustration and swore as she broke something. The pain from her hand throbbed and took some of her focus away from her other pain. Making it to the stairwell, she gazed up the steps. It stretched on, the door seeming impossibly far.

Debating whether to lie down and hope someone finds her or to continue, she felt something leak out of her. _Oh shit._

Touching at the delta between her legs, her fingertips came back tinged with blood. Solas's words came back and she wondered if this was what he had meant. Another bout of pain made her clench her teeth.

Knowing that she needed to see the healer immediately, she began the climb up the stairs. Lifting her legs with each step, she focused on counting rather than the immediate stabs penetrating her stomach. Sweat dripped down her face and she could feel herself growing weaker. Hurrying up, she jogged up the remaining stairs, nearly passing out from the pain. Pressing her head against the door, the coolness a relief against her burning face, she tried to catch her breath. She prayed to the Creators for strength.

Opening the door, she was relieved to hear voices. She called out to them, her voice weak and trembling. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she heard them coming closer. Knowing help was coming, she allowed herself to fall to the floor. The fight had left her and she could see the edges of her vision darkening. The pain became an afterthought as her senses dulled.

_Maybe death is not so bad._

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen paced nervously in his room, his work all but forgotten. Their previous fight replayed in his mind and he was frustrated. He chastised himself for pushing her, especially after her ordeal but he knew, deep down, that he was right and there was something she wasn't telling him. Her deterioration was happening before his eyes and try as he might, he couldn't help her.

_You cannot help those that do not seek it._ His father's words echoed and he admits that it was true. El was hurting but she didn't turn to him for help. Either she didn't trust him or she didn't want to burden him. Which was silly because her burdens were _his_.

Her words kept repeating in his mind - we're done. A small part of him was frightened that she was talking about their relationship. There was such finality when she said it that he was worried.

He was unsure where to go from here. This was hardly their first fight but it was the first one that they didn't resolve right away. Was he supposed to go after her? Did she need space? Or was he supposed to wait for her to approach him?

And what had happened at the training grounds really? He didn't buy that accident excuse; El was a trained assassin and she was not clumsy enough to fall onto her dagger. _Why did she lie about it?_

A gentle rap on his door broke him from his musings. He yelled enter and Dorian appeared. The mage had just returned from Tevinter, coinciding with Bull's return with his Chargers. Despite their different backgrounds, he found himself forming an easy relationship with the mage. Plus he knew how important Dorian was to El.

"What can I do for you Dorian?"

"Hmm, I've heard the most interesting rumor that our favorite couple has been having some trouble."

Cullen cursed silently. There were already rumors before this fight and he didn't want any more scrutiny on them, especially on El. Plastering on what he hoped to be a disinterested look, he replied, "Is that what they're saying?"

Dorian smirked at his attempt. "See, I thought, well they couldn't be talking about my dear, sweet Inquisitor and her general but it seems like the rumors are true." Dorian took a seat in his only chair, an amused look appearing on his face when Cullen sent him a withering look. "Well, you certainly weren't using this chair before I came in!"

Cullen could do nothing but sigh. Dorian flashed a victorious grin. "Our relationship has been...off for a while."

"I'm assuming you tried speaking with her?"

Cullen nodded. "She insisted that she was fine. Even though it was obvious that she was anything but that."

"When did the problems start?" Dorian asked.

His hand brushed through his hair, embarrassment flooding him. Which made Dorian narrow his eyes at him.

"You don't know do you?" Dorian asked, voice split between exasperation and annoyance. "Fasta vass! It's a good thing you're handsome!"

Cullen chuckled at the insult. "With everything that happened since Corypheus's defeat, I thought it was just fatigue or weariness," he ended, his smile fading. "When I realized that it went beyond that, I tried to be more helpful but it just made her more upset."

Dorian rolled his eyes before standing. "I need a drink."

Cullen brought out the brandy, two glasses, and poured him a generous helping.

Dorian tutted at his selection. "I suppose this will do in a pinch." Dorian tossed back the liquor, face twisting into a grimace. "So that's what dragon's piss tastes like. Another glass please."

Cullen poured more into his glass then clinked his glass against Dorian's in a toast. Taking a gulp, he relished the burn the alcohol provided. He rarely drank but he did enjoy a glass every now and then. As the alcohol burned down his throat, he could feel some of his earlier stress dissipating.

Dorian sat back down, drink in one hand. "How about you take us through your last argument."

"It was last night. I woke up with El gone then I heard her screaming. I found her in the courtyard, her dagger pierced through her hand. At first, I thought someone had attacked her but she insisted no one attacked her and she _fell_ onto her dagger."

"That doesn't sound like her."

"That's what I said too."

Dorian sighed. "And how _exactly_ did you approach her? I'm assuming you didn't wait for her to come to you."

The blond answered with a sheepish smile. "I kinda did it right after the healer was done."

Dorian shook his head, exasperated. "My dear General. As I stated earlier, it is a blessing that you are so handsome!" With that, Dorian tossed back the rest of his drink and motioned for him to refill his drink. He did as requested and finished his own glass. The warmth in his belly and flush he felt on his cheeks told him that the alcohol was starting to take effect. "Please continue your tale. How did this little quarrel of yours end?"

"I asked her for the truth, which she brushed off with a fake smile and answer. I yelled at her next."

Dorian groaned. "Let me ask you something General, are you a gravedigger?" Cullen responded with a shake of his head. "Perhaps when everything is done, you can officially change your occupation to one because all I see is you digging your own grave over here."

Cullen let out a small chuckle before his smile faded. "It gets worse. I told her that she didn't have to lie to me and I wasn't one of her recruits that she needed to put up a front."

"So you called her a liar? Would you like me to fireball you now or later?" The mage's hand coated with flames, making him widened his eyes in disbelief. Dorian smirked at his alarmed expression, before letting the fire dissipate. "Before I do that, continue your tale, I assume you continued to make things worse."

"She repeated her excuse and I kinda repeated it but with more disbelief than anything."

The mage cracked a smile. "It seems my wit is rubbing off on you! Though I doubt this was the most prudent moment to display it. Any other time and I would've been proud. Now, let's get to the conclusion."

"She said we're done and left in a puff of smoke. I haven't seen her since then." He refilled his glass and tanked that one as well.

Dorian remained silent and Cullen used that time to drink another glass. Finally, the Tevinter stood and went by the bookcase, looking over the selection and ignoring him. Finally, he spoke. "I know how important you are to El and she to you. So leave this to me, I'll speak with her."

The General sighed in relief, glad to have his cooperation. Dorian was a skilled orator and negotiator. And being outside of the relationship, he would have a clearer perspective than either him or El. "You have my thanks, Dorian."

The mage just waved his words away. "Now shush, none of that. You can thank me with a bottle of wine. I do enjoy a nice red."

Cullen nodded before embracing him in a brief hug. Maybe it was the alcohol but he felt affection for the Tevinter, it reminded him of his brother Branson. It made him feel yearn for home but also happy, happy that he found meaningful friendships whilst in the Inquisition. He admitted that enjoyed seeing how flustered his sudden hug made Dorian. The normally composed mage blushed deeply as he returned a half-hearted tap on his back. Releasing him, Cullen motioned to the almost finished brandy decanter. "We should finish this."

"Oh, I agree. It would be a shame to leave it in its state," Dorian chimed, lifting his empty glass up.

A loud bang resonated as the door slammed against the wall. Cullen jumped before leveling a sharp look at the intruder. "Explain yourself, soldier!"

"Ser! You're needed at the infirmary immediately! It's the Inquisitor!"

Dorian flashed an alarmed look to him before they both followed the panicked soldier

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to spiral for the Inquisitor. Dorian tries to help. The confrontation with Cullen comes to head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor is Rogue dual-blade trained in the Way of the Assassin. She had initially romanced Solas but after _that _event, she ended up with Cullen.__
> 
> This is not beta read, so forgive any mistakes or point them out and I'll try to fix it. I've been trying to reduce the amount of slang or current lingo but there's bound to be a few here and there that I miss.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or am I making money. This is purely for entertainment purposes

 

 

* * *

 

 

Pain, unlike anything she ever felt, invaded every part of her body but was especially sharp in her abdomen. An anguished moan left her lips as she shifted, making everything intensify. Every breath was agony, spitting flames onto her lungs and every inhale torturously difficult. She wanted to scream, cry, curl herself into a ball but the hurt was too much and all she could do was moan pitifully. Voices by her mumbled but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying. All she wanted was for this to end. If she died now, she would be glad because it meant an end to this suffering.

Soft hands prodded her stomach, eliciting a scream from her as knives stabbed into wherever those hands touched.

“Stop it!” A voice shouted.

It was too much. And she could feel herself succumbing to the pain. _Please let me die…_

 

* * *

 

 

“Please let me die,” El mumbled. Cullen watched as her breathing evened out and her body relaxed.

When he and Dorian had entered the infirmary, he had feared the worst. El was covered in blood, moaning in pain. Kya had assured him that her life wasn’t in imminent danger but that did little to quell the fear and panic coursing through his body. The healer’s hands were glowing as it roved over El’s body, her brow was furrowed in concentration but she didn’t seem overly alarmed. That calmed him down to a point where he didn’t feel like throwing up anymore.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked when Kya pulled her hands away.

The healer sighed. “I...don’t know how to tell you this.” Her eyes darted over to Dorian, who was leaning against the wall.

“You may speak freely here Kya. El would want Dorian to know as well.”

Kya nodded her head and closed her eyes. “The Inquisitor was with child.”

He couldn’t contain his surprise and glanced at El’s stomach, flat and showing no signs. Then Kya’s words processed and he felt the everything drop. “Wait...was?”

Kya nodded, face solemn. “I’m sorry General, the child did not survive.”

His chest squeezed as he looked at El’s bloody clothes. _Our child…_ Tears sprung from his eyes and he turned away from the others. He wanted to punch something or scream, but he couldn’t do it in front of the others. A warm hand touched his shoulder and he glanced back to see Dorian’s sympathetic gaze.

“I’m sorry Cullen,” Dorian said. “I’ll leave you be but I’ll be back later.”

He didn’t answer except for a slight nod of his head. Dorian exited after, leaving him with Kya.

Hastily wiping his tears, he turned back to the healer, who looked at him, grief apparent on her face.

“General, there’s something else I must tell you.”

His heart thudded wildly at the healer’s words and tone. He knew it was something serious.

“While doing the exam, I found that the child would have been born an elf.”

His eyebrows furrowed, confused at why that was anything surprising. Kya, seeing his expression, gave him another sympathetic look.

“Humans and elf offsprings are always human.”

That revelation made him sit down in the closest chair. _Does that mean…_

“Before you start down that path, I would like to bring up the fact that the Inquisitor has the anchor. Elven offsprings are rare because the magic and rituals put into it are complex and lengthy. No one knows what sort of effects the anchor could have especially on a growing fetus. It allows the Inquisitor to have some magical talents despite not being a mage. It may have contributed to this situation.”

He nodded, his voice failing to work. Not wanting to think of the other possibility, he glanced over at El’s sleeping form. Tired and drained from the day’s events, he was glad that El wasn’t awake right now because he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore the questions in his mind. Considering how their last argument ended, the damage from this new squabble could end their relationship.

Kya sat down next to El. “I know this has been a troubling time for you General. I’ll stay with her tonight, you should rest up.”

He wanted to argue but she was right. Between the alcohol consumed earlier and the past day’s events, he was exhausted. Thanking Kya, he left the room to retreat to the safety of his chambers.

 

* * *

 

 

The first thought that entered her consciousness was how her body ached. Compared to the previous pain, this was an improvement. Opening her eyes, she noticed the darkened room, with a lone candle used for light. Kya rested in the chair next to her and she felt a sense of gratitude for her. Despite how busy and difficult her tasks were, Kya never complained nor faltered. Looking around, she could tell that she was in the infirmary again and that she was alone with the healer. She frowned at the disappointment she felt at not seeing Cullen beside her. It was her fault for pushing him away, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her feeling a bit dejected.

Debating whether to rest more or rise, a wave of pain and nausea forced her to her feet and out the door. The harsh light blinded her as she spewed bile onto the grass. Sounds that usually filled Skyhold paused as she heaved but it was dull against the roar of her headache and beating heart. Along with her bloody clothes, she knew she was a mess. The only positive was that there were no nobles to chide or make remarks, though she could hear their ridicule - _Oh look at the state of her clothes! Is she kneeling in the dirt? Have you seen such a display from someone of power before?_

Large hands lifted her to her feet and she knew it was Bull from his scent. She allowed him to carry her back into the room, where Kya was just awaking. Bull set her gently down onto the bed, nodding to the bleary-eyed healer before stepping out of the room.

Kya apologized, which she waved away. “You do so much for us Kya, do not apologize.” Her words elicited a blush from the normally composed healer. “If you can spare the energy, I know my stomach and head will gladly appreciate the help.” Kya bowed before she placed her glowing hands at each temple. Being healed by both magic and potions, she preferred the talented healers versus the usual bitter potions. Watching the healer rove her hands over her head - headache disappeared so quickly, she thanked whoever invented healing magic - then over to her stomach, she noted how Kya’s brow furrowed in worry before she realized that she was looking at her and reverted back to a nonchalant look. Saving her questions until after the exam was over, she then noticed that Kya was still working on her stomach.

After a few moments, she couldn’t keep her questions at bay. “Kya, what is wrong?”

She stammered, which was unusual to see as Kya was quite eloquent. “I - I cannot heal whatever ails you.”

Her eyebrows shot up in shock, mimicking her healer’s surprised expression. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I do not know Inquisitor. Forgive me. I must investigate this more for now but please rest.” She abruptly got to her feet and left, leaving the Inquisitor confused and scared. She rose to her feet to follow but a wave of nausea forced her back into the cot. Tears sprung from her eyes as she wondered if she was cursed. Life was just spitting out hardships and she couldn’t dodge them at all. _Perhaps I am cursed_.

No doubt there were many people that hated her, maybe someone with magical powers had done something to her. While she didn’t think it _was_ possible, with how everything was going, it seemed more logical than thinking she had shit luck. Or maybe it was divine retribution for everything that had happened in the last three years.

Even though she tried to not think about it, she wanted to see Solas again. These sort of questions she had, it was something she would talk to with him. Despite how ridiculous some of her questions were in the past, he had never laughed at her. Instead, he praised her curiosity. With everyone gone, there weren’t many people she could talk to or ask questions.

Just seeing him in her dreams had rekindled something she thought was gone. She shook her head in frustration, why was it so hard to move on from him? He wasn’t her first love but she had fallen harder and faster than before. Everything about him drew her to him and she tried hard to rid herself of those feelings. _Only to have years of work destroyed in a single dream_.

Sitting up, she looked at her bloodstained clothes, grimacing. Kya had left her fresh clothes next to her cot and she felt another rush of gratitude towards the mage. She changed out of her clothes, noting the pain in her stomach and lower abdomen as she pulled on the clean clothes. She had an inkling of what happened but she knew it wouldn’t do to panic or cry about something she hasn't confirmed. However, it didn’t stop the pain nor ache she felt when she looked at the blood. Despite their problems, she would’ve loved having children with Cullen. She knew he would be such a devoted and excellent father.

Another pang of sadness and regret filled her, filling her eyes with tears. _Another loss for me._ Tears started to spill over and her chest ached, as she fought to control her emotions. Her tears stopped but she felt empty and muted. The room suddenly felt too constricting, making her chest seize in pain. The sensation swelled and she tried to ignore it, tried to calm herself. Finally, not able to take it anymore, she tore out of the room, ignoring the concerned looks and questions from the others. Her feet took her to the tavern, where she swiped a random bottle of liquor from the bar and went toward the roof through Sera’s old room. The climb was hard, especially with her injuries and trying to hold onto the bottle but she did it after a few minutes, panting in exhaustion and covered in sweat. She could oversee most of Skyhold and any other day, she would have cherished the sight. Now it just made her feel empty. The pride she had felt from being part of something so important was gone and it left her feeling hollow. Perhaps it was because of her injury, maybe seeing Solas had done this, or maybe it was a combination of every _fucking_ thing that had happened finally slammed into her and left her in this state.

All she knew was that this was the last place she wanted to be right now. Eyes fixed on the barn, she wondered if she could flee this place without anyone chasing after her. Taking a swig from the bottle, it went down smoothly and she wiped her mouth against her sleeve. Though she wanted to leave, she had nowhere else to go. Bitterly, she remembered she had no clan to return to and she felt anger swell within her again. As time passed on, she was thinking that her decision to not respond was wrong. Her heart hadn’t forgotten what happened in Wycome nor has the pain receded with time.

She downed more of her drink and could feel the warmth of the alcohol beginning to affect her. Instead of that light, giddy feeling she would normally get while drunk, she felt herself crawling deeper into her hole.

Someone was calling her name from below but she ignored it and took another generous swig. Her mind was blank but she could feel the undercurrents of her anger rippling. She knew it was stupid to lower her inhibitions when she was feeling like this but she needed some sort of release from it all.

“El.”

It was Cullen calling from below. She didn’t respond, only took another sip, noting that half the bottle was gone.

“El.” This time with more exasperation and a twinge of anger.

She was angry too. Forgetting about her previous embarrassment and sorrow for her actions, she could feel the resentment building. She guzzled the rest of the bottle, then let the empty bottle roll down the slanted roof. She heard Cullen swear as the glass shattered below. The alcohol buzz muted her thoughts and sounds as she gazed at the skyline. It was the first moments of peace for her in a while and her body relaxed, the pain disappears.

“-ease come down from the roof!” Cullen barked, breaking through her haze. Instantly, her wounds throbbed harshly and she winced. In that previous moment of peace, she had felt like her old self, the one before the Inquisition. All she wanted was to rest quietly but it seemed like she would never get a reprieve from her duties. She remembered those quiet moments while traveling with her clan. Often she would find herself alone for hours at a time, which she used to hunt or train. Those times she had wished for a more exciting life. She chuckled. She was a fool. She did not appreciate what she had and now, it was too late. Feeling her chest tightening again, she wondered if she would ever recover from this pain. The wound was still fresh as it was years ago, only with more anger now.

“El…”

She barely responded to Dorian’s entrance. Normally, she would hug the Tevinter tightly while laughing at his admonishments about how improper her actions were. But right now, she wanted to be alone, to cry, to not feel like she had to hide. She just wanted to be Eliana for a while, not Inquisitor. _Why can’t they leave me alone?_

“I see Cullen recruited you for his bidding,” she finally responded, flatly.

The mage frowned at her words on tone. “My dear friend, no one recruited me for anything. I’m here to see how my dearest friend is doing and whether she wanted any company on this highly unstable, slanted, damaged roof that can cave in at any time.”

Despite her mood, laughter bubbled in her chest and she patted the spot next to her. He sat down, looking regal, which was a hard task to do considering where they were.

“I know better than to ask stupid questions but I will. Are you all right?”

She chuckled briefly before her smile fell. “I’m drowning and I don’t know how to save myself.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his brows furrowed in thought. Despite her initial ire at his intrusion, she was glad he came. Dorian was one of those people that always made her happy. While she loved all of her friends deeply, Dorian had especially wormed his way into her heart, to where she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Initially, she didn’t trust him. He was smart, charming, and Tevinter, a deadly combination in most cases. Not only did he prove her wrong but he had changed her way of thinking. He challenged her preconceptions and prejudices she held. In the end, she became a better person.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, breaking her from her musings.

To which she responded with a defeated look and her dark thoughts returned. “I have nowhere to go.” She looked at the skyline again, unable to face him lest she sees the pity in his eyes.

“I have 20 gold on whether we can sneak out of here without anyone seeing us,” Dorian remarked casually. She turned and saw that he was serious, though the amused twinkle in his eyes told her that he was having fun.

Activating Stealth, Dorian grinned before dissipating in a cloud of smoke. She hauled herself up and quickly worked her way back inside the tavern. Tiptoeing around the soldiers, she could hardly contain her laughter and had to stop herself from pranking the unsuspecting soldiers. By the door, she thought for sure she was caught as Bull stood by it, his massive frame blocking most of it. After a minute of not moving, she realized he wasn’t going to move. Looking around, she spied her opening. Quickly, she knocked over the shelving for the liquor, relishing in the sounds of broken bottles and dismayed cries of everyone. Bull left the doorway and El rushed forth. Sprinting past her exasperated lover, she hauled herself over the low stone partition wall, stomach flopping as she fell toward the grassy area near the healer’s tents. It was at the gate when she heard the first alarm for her disappearance. Ignoring the guilt at Cullen’s shouts, she ran outside Skyhold. Once a safe enough distance, Stealth was deactivated.

Dorian appeared from behind a tree nearby. “Took you long enough.”

El could only shake her head. One thing she did know was that she was feeling better already.

 

* * *

 

The tavern they traveled to was small, much smaller than the one in Skyhold. It was packed to capacity and raucous. However, they paid little heed to her and Dorian. They looked like regular travelers and they blended well with the other revelers.

Dorian slid the mug of ale to her, to which she offered thanks and a toast. The oppressive weight had lifted off her and her previous injuries were specks in her mind. Clanking his mug against hers, she let out a small laugh at Dorian’s disgust as he drank.

“And here I thought nothing can beat Dragon’s piss.”

“It’s not that bad,” she remarked. It wasn’t good either but she had worse...a lot worse. “Nothing can come close to that concoction that Bull had me drink.”

A shudder passed through him. “I see you’ve also tasted it. The taste lingered in my mouth for an entire week!”

El nodded, remembering the celebratory drinks consumed after killing her first dragon. It was bitter, sour, warm, spicy, and pungent. Just thinking about it made her nauseous. “I almost gave up drinking thanks to that.”

“Actually Bull was quite impressed with how much of it you drank. When I complained after a sip, he said ‘Well, the Inquisitor tanked five of them in one sitting.’ To which I responded that you didn’t have a refined palate as mine.”

She laughed. “After the first drink, my throat was numb. I didn’t taste anything after that nor anything else for the rest of the week.”

“Trust me, that’s a good thing because the only thing worse than drinking it, is tasting it when it comes back up.”

“Excuse me?”

They both turned to look at the voice interrupting their conversation. A young man stood by them, fiddling his drink nervously in his hand.

“Could I buy you a drink?” Looking at her. She gave Dorian a look and he shrugged his shoulders.

The young man was around Cullen’s age, maybe younger, with dark hair and handsome, even though he was clearly nervous. She was flattered. “Thank you for the offer, however, I don’t think we will be drinking for much longer.”

“Nonsense El! Let this man buy you a drink,” Dorian interrupted. She turned as glared at the mage, which he waved off. “Let him get you a drink, you deserve it.”

She groaned as the man perked up and disappeared. Turning to her troublesome friend, she fumed. “Dorian! Now he’s going to stay even longer.”

He waved off her concerns. “Listen, just say thank you and enjoy the drink.”

The man returned with three tankards, distributing one to her and Dorian, which made the mage beam happily. El sighs before she gestures to the seat across of her, which the man takes.

“Thank you for the drink.” El took a swig, the sweet liquid a stark contrast from their earlier one. “This one is much better than the one my friend bought me.”

“Rude,” Dorian quipped.

The man chuckled and raised a glass to the bartender, who returned the gesture. “It helps when the bartender is your childhood friend. I’m Sebastian.”

“This is El and I’m Dorian.”

Sebastian shook both of their hands. “Are you Tevinter Dorian?”

“Mm, I see you recognize greatness,” Dorian responded. “I am Tevinter but not a blood mage nor am I a magister.”

El stiffened, worried about how Sebastian would respond. Not many viewed Tevinters favorably and while she knew Dorian could handle himself, she wanted to protect her friend.

“I’m from the Free Marches. And you’re a city elf El?”

Surprised at his lack of hostility, El nodded. “I suppose I am a city elf though I see myself as Dalish.”

“Honestly this is the first time I’ve seen an elf. We don’t have too many that come through here,” Sebastian remarked, studying her.

Used to the scrutiny, she remained quiet as he assessed her. That was the first thing that she tried to get used to when she first became part of the Inquisition. The staring. She had asked Josephine if there was something wrong with her or her outfit. Her ambassador just chuckled and kindly told her that many have not seen or interacted with a Dalish elf.

“Inquisitor.”

El stiffened. The tavern quieted as they turned to look at her. While the mood was jovial and light, it shifted to something more dangerous and she cursed when she realized that she was weaponless.

It was one of Leliana’s spies and she wondered if her Spymaster was close by.

“Inquisitor?” Sebastian rose from his seat and backed away. “You’re the Inquisitor.”

Tanking the rest of her drink, she nodded before rising. “I am Eliana, the leader of the Inquisition.” Dorian at her right, the spy flanked her left and she felt him press something against her waist - a dagger - then tucked it into her empty sheath.

“Out! Get out now!” The bartender shouted.

El nodded and they went toward the exit. Only to have several large men blocking it.

“You’re the cause for a lot of death,” one seethed.

She knew. She dreamed of all that died at her hands. All the blood and death that came from her hands, all the lives she couldn’t save, and all those that died for her. She dreamed of them all.

She felt Dorian shift. “El…”

“Please allow us to leave peacefully.”

“Why should we? When you’re responsible for the death of everyone I loved back in Haven.”

Her eyes closed. Haven. It’s been a long time since she thought of that place and all that were killed there. One of her biggest failures.

“Haven was not the Inquisitors fault! If you wish to blame someone, blame the person responsible! Corypheus descended upon Haven and it was El that stood up to fight against him while everyone fled. She almost died in Haven, how dare you blame her!”

Her eyes opened in shock at Dorian’s words. _As if I couldn’t love him anymore._ It seemed like his words also affected the others as they mumbled apologies before stepping aside. She flashed Dorian a grateful smile as they left. Once outside, she sighed in relief. Tossing the dagger back to the spy, she leveled him with an annoyed glare.

“What were you thinking? Addressing me as Inquisitor?” She barked. “That could’ve been a lot worse and people could’ve died.”

The spy bowed deeply. “Forgive me, Inquisitor, I didn’t think you were hiding your identity. I was only sent to find and retrieve you.”

El sighed. She had no right to be angry. “No, it’s okay. I know you were only doing your job. Please inform Leliana that I will be returning soon.”

The spy nodded before disappearing.

“Well, that certainly could have gone better. I apologize El. I only wished to let you enjoy some anonymity and relax but I fear I may have made things worse for you.”

Now it was her turn to wave away his concerns. “Nonsense, after that speech, I’m promoting you to my new goodwill ambassador.”

“Will I you increase my pay?”

Tapping her chin in mock thought, she nodded. “I think we just received some crates of wine from Val Royeaux.”

“Excellent! That should do nicely.”

The sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation and she was surprised to see Sebastian exit. Still wary, she gathered closer to Dorian.

“I’m sorry about everyone in there.” He offered a low bow.

She gazed at the back of his head in shock. _Seems like today is filled with surprises_.

“A lot of people lost those that were closest to them. The pain made them forget that those people weren’t forced to help but wanted to be part of something, to help the world. So thank you, Inquisitor, for saving us.”

“I helped too,” Dorian chimed.

Sebastian bowed to the mage as well, making said mage blush in embarrassment. “Thank you, Dorian of Tevinter, for saving everyone.”

El looked at Dorian. “I think I found someone else to be our goodwill ambassador.”

“I’m keeping the wine.”

 

* * *

 

After they had thanked Sebastian and made arrangements for him to visit Skyhold - after Leliana does a thorough check - they started to head back to Skyhold. It was starting to get dark and she hoped they could make it before they lost all light.

“I can’t believe you demoted me, right after my promotion as well!” Dorian griped. “Though I will admit, Sebastian does have a way with words. Perhaps I can convince him to give me some lessons.”

“You do not need any lessons, you’re just using this as an excuse to see him because he’s handsome.”

“I certainly would not do such a thing! I’m just hoping to get tips - hey - why are you looking at me like that?”

El laughed, her glare disappearing. What could have been a disastrous outing had turned into what she needed, what her soul and spirit needed.

Silence had fallen between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, El felt at peace, something that has been lacking for a long time. The troubles that plagued her felt inconsequential. Lightness filled her being and she felt _happy._

“Thank you for this Dorian. If I am glad for anything, it is meeting you.”

The normally composed man sputtered at her words. “El…”

“Shut up and hug me.”

He laughed before enveloping her, her arms clutching tightly to his form. She sighed happily. _As long as I have my friends, I can face anything._

A cry escaped her lips and the anchor came to life, green lightning illuminating the darkness. Ripping herself away from Dorian, she dropped to her knees, her right hand clutching her left.

_Why? Why now?_

“El! What’s happening?!”

Time drifted on as her hand burned in sensations that made her feel faint. Tears leaked as her cursed hand reminded her of her troubles.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. The light green glow disappeared, the tiny aftershocks still smarting. Picking herself from the ground, she tried to catch her breath. One of Dorian’s arm had wrapped around her waist and she leaned against him, grateful.

“What in Andraste’s name was that?”

She looked at her treacherous hand. “The anchor.”

She could practically feel his eye roll. “Yes, I know that was the anchor. Why was it reacting like that?”

She shook her head. “I wish I knew what is wrong _this_ thing. It’s the reason why I haven’t been able to sleep and the reason why I stabbed my hand.”

Gazing at him, she could see the concern on his face. “This is something that you need to tell Cullen and the others. They can help you.”

The thought of the others knowing frightened her. It was an irrational thought but her mind couldn’t help it. Weakness was something that was hidden from all, for she knew that if this ever got out, it wasn’t just her reputation suffering but the Inquisition. All the good they have done would be negated and she - everyone risked too much to let that happen.

She shook her head vehemently. “I can’t, the Inquisition would suffer if anyone found out. Please, Dorian, do not tell anyone, especially Cullen.”

The mage sighed. “Secrets like this isn’t something you should be keeping to yourself. If anyone will understand, it will be Cullen. Please reconsider it.”

“I’ll think about it.” But in her mind, she knew she wouldn’t change her mind. If these past few days had shown her was that perception can change as quickly as the weather. Her response seemed to placate him, at least for now. She knew he would bother her again about this.

The rest of the hike was quiet and El could feel the dread creeping with each step closer to Skyhold. Her previous ease and happiness dissipated and all she felt was apprehension. This visceral reaction swelled as the walls and parapets became visible.

 

* * *

 

 

Bull had met them by the entrance and El smiled as Dorian gave him a quick peck. The happiness on Dorian’s face was absolutely real and El loved it. Cullen was standing behind Bull, his face pulled tight in anger. The pain that had faded when she was out with Dorian came roaring back to life and she grimaced. It all made her want to activate Stealth and disappear. But she knew that their talk was a long time coming.

Nodding to Dorian - he mouths _Tell him_ as she passed - and follows Cullen to the armory. The tension in his shoulders and the aura was telling. Once inside, Cullen dismissed the workers, whom then scurried outside.

Alone, El watched his back and waited for him to say something. Time passed silently and the tension increased as no one spoke.

“Why?” He finally said, back still to her.

“Why what Cullen?” she threw back. She wasn’t trying to be difficult but sometimes her mouth just spat out whatever she was thinking.

That seemed to stoke his anger. Whirling around, his face contorted in anger. “Why did you leave without telling me? You could’ve been attacked, in danger, without me none the wiser! I keep trying to talk to you but you keep running away El!”

The ache in her belly throbbed and she closed her eyes from the pain and from the hurt she could hear in his voice. “I am sorry Cullen. I just needed to leave.”

“Away from me?”

She nodded, hating that she had hurt him, Cullen is such a great man, a wonderful partner. “It was too much Cullen, everything. I just needed some space away from _everyone_.”

“You could have told me El, instead of disappearing. I was scared, my mind thinking all these horrible thoughts.”

“It was wrong to not tell you, Cullen, I am sorry for my behavior.”

He sighed, tension leaving his body. “Now will you tell me what happened the other night?”

Fear stabbed at her and her body tensed. “The other night…”

Catching her sudden reluctance, his eyes narrowed. “I do not believe that you fell onto your dagger. Why won’t you tell me what really happened?” His tone was exasperated and desperate.

The explanation stood on the tip of her tongue, trying to escape from her mouth. Her reluctance puzzled her, Cullen had done nothing to earn her hesitance and yet, she couldn’t deny the pit in her stomach at the thought of Cullen discovering her secret.

Cullen tried another tactic. “Does Dorian know?”

Before she could fully comprehend his question, she nodded. Only when she saw the tightening of his face, the anger and sadness twisting his features.

“But not willingly!” She sputters. Grimacing, she tries again. “He found out.” Even to her, her excuse - because it really was an excuse - sounded weak.

Not responding, he turned and left. Startled, she watched as his back disappeared beyond the door. Finally, she snapped into action and chased after him. Calling his name, she ignored the smattering of soldiers that loitered outside, staring at her as she chased after Cullen. He ignored her, heading toward his office and she continued to follow. Once in the office, she shut the door behind her.

“Cullen…”

Turning, she could barely handle the obvious disappointment - the disapproval - on his face. “I’ll be staying here from now on.”

At his words, old pains flared, making everything sharper. Her chest squeezed as his words sunk in. His upstairs bedroom has been unoccupied for over a year and he had moved into her spacious room.

“Does that mean…” She couldn’t say the words, fear filling her.

“I need space and time to think.”

Tears brimmed her eyes and she willed herself not to cry. _You brought this upon yourself._ Nodding, she left.

 _Drink, I need a drink_.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, my heart. By the way, Cullen's face in the last scene is the same face he makes when you break things off with him (aka friendzone), I did it once and oh my, I quickly reloaded my last save.
> 
> In the coming chapters: Things are going to get much worse for both of them, there's much that they need to talk about but with the Exalted Council is coming soon, they might not get the chance. 
> 
> Side note: I'm replaying DAI (for the 5th or 6th time) and I always pick Solas for my female Inky. Why? Why do I do this to myself? Haha, I guess I enjoy having my heart stomped on.
> 
> Thank you to all the readers and those that left kudos. You're all awesome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda filler chapter but it does set the stage for the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with this chapter. While I don't hate it, I don't love it either. But I have to put this out to get to the next part. Got to see Bull's perspective a bit and hopefully, I did it justice!

* * *

 

 

“No, no, no! This is all wrong.” Dorian was pacing in front of him, down to his underthings - damn, he was wearing the silk ones he loved. Despite the temptation in front of him, he knew that Dorian would not appreciate the distraction right now.

“Kadan, you’re wearing out the flooring.”

Dorian gave him a withering look. “Because unlike  _ some _ people, I actually care about our friend’s relationship.”

“A little too much,” Bull mumbled. The sharp stare told him that he heard. “Fine, fine. Let’s talk about this shit so we can get to the sex faster.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “How chivalrous of you.”

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in months. Can you blame me if I want to spend this time spanking your pert little ass rather than talking?”

A blush bloomed over his cheeks - he loved how dirty talk always made the man redden like a virgin.

“My ass is not little!”

Bull laughed then patted the bed. Sitting next to him, Dorian pressed himself flush into his side - he was never a cuddler but Dorian always enjoyed it and he eventually learned to love it as well. He watched as the smile on his face fell.

“Worried about her?”

Dorian sighed. “She wouldn’t even talk to me. Just sat there, crying, staring at the mountains.”

Bull was worried too. He knew she was having a rough go at things, shit, he would too if he went through half the shit she’s been through. If Dorian couldn’t make her talk, then he knew his chances were nil. His love was always better at this kinda stuff, while his solutions tend to be...more physical.

“Maybe she needs to hit shit.”

Dorian huffed. “That may work for you, you ruffian, but El is not you.”

Shrugging, he let his hand caress Dorian’s side. “Hitting can be cathartic.”

A little hitch in his breathing told him that his Kadan was enjoying his petting. Good. Because he was ready to go since yesterday. “I’m being serious here.” There was an undercurrent of desire beneath his usual huffiness.

Bull growled. “I am too Kadan. I’m seriously trying to get you out of these clothes.” He nipped at his throat, enjoying the way he was trying to seem unaffected despite the tenting of his silk underthings. “Now, do you want me to tie you up or spank you first?”

His blush deepened. “Fasta vass! You’re impossible!”

Chuckling lightly, he squeezed a hip affectionately. "But you love that about me Kadan." Going in for a kiss, he swallowed whatever retort his lover was about to utter. Sometimes he talks too much and Bull knew exactly how to shut him up. A fire lit in his belly as Dorian returned the kiss, his arms tracing light patterns against his muscles.

“I guess you can spank me first.”

Bull could only smile in response.

 

* * *

 

 

El twirled her blades in hands, the familiar weight a relief. It’s been 3 days since she last spoke to Cullen and she was tired of crying and moping. Opting to do what she had always done, she pushed those feelings aside and suppressed the hell out it. Unable to stand her empty room - Cullen must’ve empty it before she came back - she decided to train.

The mark hadn't flared up since her last attack with Dorian and she was glad for small favors. She knew she needed to see Kya, to speak with her about her wounds and what had happened. Also, she needed to inform her about the residual pain in her stomach that seemed to be spreading further. It wasn't too bad, she was able to function without grimacing too much. However, she was worried when the pain didn't seem to be receding, instead, it was spreading further along. Before it was a small knot, the size of a coin, in her stomach, but now it was as big as a rock. Originally, she had planned to see her once she returned to Skyhold but...with everything that happened, she had pushed it aside in her grief. Honestly, she delayed going because she  _ knew _ that Kya would not have good news and she didn’t think she could handle it.

Which lead her to the training grounds. Seeing Bull, she gave a small smile as she approached him.

“Heya Boss. Care to do some training?”

She never really sparred with Bull before, opting to train or fight with Heir or Cole instead. But she needed to work out whatever emotions that was clawing at her.

"I would be honored, Bull."

He gestured to the sparring ring and they both walked over. Several soldiers gathered around and their excitement poured into her.

“Any rules?” She asked.

"No abilities and loser buy drinks."

Getting into her stance, she nodded. Bull lifted his maul - one she crafted from dragon’s bone - and swung down toward her. she dodged the obvious blow and slid to the left. It seems like he was expecting that and he quickly adjusted the maul’s trajectory.

“Shit!” Bringing up both daggers, she barely parried the blow. The action nearly knocked her weapons from her hands and the resulting clash reverberated up her arms as she strained to keep the blunt weapon away from her.  _ Fuck, he’s strong.  _ She pushed back his weapon, making the large man take a step back. She growled as wasn't as far as she had hoped. Before he could attack her, she lunged forward. As her blades neared the flesh of his stomach, he deflected the blow with the haft of his weapon. She jumped back, wary. Bull heaved his maul up and rested it on his shoulder. While he wasn't as quick as her, his strength and stamina gave him the advantage over her.

They circled around the ring, his eye watching her intently. Her eyes did the same, looking for an opening. Sliding her eyes down, she noted the brace on his left ankle. Deciding to take advantage of that, she changed directions, forcing him to step out with his bad ankle.

While she knew she could keep fighting against him for a while, over time, her advantage would disappear. Being a rogue meant that she wasn't meant for endurance fights like warriors. Most of the time the battle was over after activating Hidden Blades so fighting beyond a few minutes wasn't something she was used to. Deciding to end this fight soon, she lunged forward as he was stepping. Bringing his weapon down, he blocked her blow as she knew he would. Summoning all the strength she could muster, she pushed as hard she could. Bull tried to compensate the force of her shove, but from his grimace, she knew that his injured ankle was giving him trouble.

"Very smart Boss," He gritted our as their weapons braced against each other. While it was tiring trying to hold off his strength, she was pleased that she could match the large man's strength.

“Thanks,” she huffed, before pulling away suddenly. Bull stumbled forward and she took that opening to slip into his defense. Swinging her blade up, she stopped as it touched his neck.

“I think I win,” she remarked.

“Did you Boss?”

Then she felt it, a blade pressed against her stomach. Sure enough, she glanced down and saw that he had drawn out a small dagger and pressed it to the side of her belly. Amazed - for she didn’t even see him bring out the dagger - she pulled back before nodding. The spectators cheered and she grinned at Bull before bowing. Together, they headed into the tavern, along with the audience.

“So who’s buying drinks?” One soldier asked.

El sighed dramatically and pretended to ponder the thought. "I guess drinks are on me. Bring out the good stuff!"

The roar of the crowd of deafening and she could only smile. Feeling better than earlier, she gave Bull a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Bull."

“Anytime Boss.”

 

* * *

 

 

The former Ben-Hassrath spy noted as El slipped away, a small smile on her face, her steps a little wobbly. Though he had accomplished his mission - appropriately labeled as Make the Inquisitor Forget about her Shitty Life Mission - another concern had come forth. Glancing down at his weapon, he glanced at the indentations left by her blades on the head. One thing he knew was that dragon’s bone was one of the hardest materials out there, much harder than the Inquisitor’s everite dual-blades. Shit, he tested pretty much all materials and knew that there was no way that she should’ve been able to leave any sort of mark.

The only thing he could think of was her strength. When they sparred, he was surprised that she was able to hold him off and even push him back. Many soldiers - much larger and stronger than her - have tried, only to end up smashed or cleaved in half. His years spent as a spy kept the shock off his face but internally he was trying to figure out if she was always this strong.  _ No _ . He had done a thorough investigation of all his comrades: their fighting styles, abilities, strength, stamina, dexterity, etc. and El should not have been able to do what she had done.

“Krem.” His second came by, drink in hand.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“I told you chief, you need to find someone else to help you bind your bosoms.”

He chuckled, before morphing into his serious face. Krem noticed the change and leaned closer to him. “I need you to watch El, see if she’s does anything strange,” he said in a low voice.

“The Inquisitor? What do you mean strange?”

“Change in personality, deviations in patterns or habits, displaying new abilities or strength, anything. Report only back to me and do NOT mention this to Dorian.”

Krem nodded before finishing the rest of his drink. He left and Bull let out a small sigh. He didn't know why but he had a bad feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

El hummed as she walked through Skyhold. The lightness she was feeling was pleasant and she wasn’t too inebriated where she needed help walking. Right now it made her feel like she was floating and she laughed, feeling more carefree than she should have.

With no destination in mind, she let her feet guide her and she found herself in the kitchen. A growl from her stomach and the scent of food made her suddenly ravenous. Grabbing some fresh bread, she tore into it, relishing as she chewed the soft, fluffy loaf. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, humming and enjoying it far too much.

Hearing voices, she activated Stealth and settled into a corner. She wasn’t forbidden from taking food - she was still the leader of the Inquisition dammit - but she didn’t want another lecture from Josephine or talk to anyone about why she was shoveling food down her gullet.

“Did you see Commander Cullen this morning?”

Ears perking up, her heart sped up as the two women entered the kitchen.

“Yes with that woman, she did not waste any time after him and the Inquisitor broke up.”

Her heart seized. Stuck between wanting to flee and sating her curiosity, her legs decided for her as was rooted to the spot when she tried to move them.

The other woman, younger of the two, nodded. “Can you believe it though? I never thought they would break up.”

“Honestly can you blame him though? They were never a good match.”

The other woman narrowed her eyes at the other. “What do you mean? I thought they were a cute couple.”

The elder woman patted the younger one's arm. "My dear, she was an elf and he a human. They would have never lasted."

Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, she hated how she partially agreed with the older woman. Though she believed that any person is free to love another, despite race, it was another thing in practice. She had seen the looks and the whispers, from humans and other elves. It was taxing, trying to ignore it all and she wondered if all of it got to Cullen.

“I don’t see why race has to do with anything,” the younger woman stated.

“That’s the way it's always been in Thedas. Now, Commander Cullen and Lieutenant Hart are much more suited for each other.”

Lieutenant Hart...her heart sank. A gifted soldier, loyal, and absolutely stunning. Even El had been shocked when the Lieutenant removed her helmet. From the blushes that dusted her soldiers  _ and _ companion’s cheeks, she knew that they were quite taken by her beauty. Built like Cassandra, she wasn’t as strong but made up for it with speed and grace. They had fought beside one another several times and each time it seemed effortless to her. And unlike many, she kept her hair long.  _ One vanity that I had allowed myself _ \- she said with a light laugh when the Inquisitor had questioned it. Complete with green eyes that stood out against her dark hair, El knew that the woman was gorgeous and had no shortage of suitors.

Knowing that she was pursuing Cullen - for she had seen the looks she had sent him - made her sad rather than angry. Before she wouldn’t have worried about Cullen straying or leaving her. Now, she didn’t even know…

Hearing enough, she slipped away from the chattering women and made her way back to the training ring. Each step she took, made the pain in her chest swell and she didn’t want to  _ think _ about Cullen or Hart or any shape or matter of them together but her mind was a traitorous thing. The woman’s words kept repeating:  _ They are more suited for each other. They are more suited for each other. They are more suited for each other _ . Over and over until her chest throbbed in pain. Trying to rein in that pain, she felt a swelling of anger in its stead and she let it flood through her. This hate, the rage, she didn't know who it was for. Maybe herself, for fucking up the best thing that had happened to her. At Cullen for not even having the guts to break up with her before moving on. At Lieutenant Hart for being just perfect and human, two traits among many that she had over her. With the attitudes and perceptions of people, because who cares if she was the Inquisitor and savior of the world, just being an elf negated all the good things about her. Probably a combination of everything, for her hate was immense.

Popping back out of Stealth, she took a deep breath but that did nothing to quell the fire that spread from her chest, down her arms, until everything  _ thrummed  _ with anger and energy. One hand reached for a dagger and gripped it tightly. Envisioning her anger as a target, she whipped it toward the stone wall, striking it with a resounding  _ thunk _ . Walking away, she tried best to ignore the fact that for a brief instant she saw Cullen’s face and that did nothing to sate her rage, in fact, she imagined that his handsome face was the target. She felt sick.

 

* * *

 

 

Krem returned a bit later, face casual but Bull just knew his second saw something. Nodding over to their usual area, they sat down on an empty table far enough away from any curious ears but close enough to the crowd to not seem too suspicious. Sliding over a tankard to Krem, he watched as he took a deep drink.

“Did she ever strike you as the angry type?” Krem finally spoke, mug blocking his lips.

El, angry? That was an adjective he wouldn’t use for her. Bubbly, nice, far too good for this world, and a whole mess of other words before he used angry. “Nah, Boss is a lot of things but angry isn’t one of them.”

Krem gestured to outside and Bull finished off his drink. They ventured outside, save for a few guards patrolling, they were alone enough to not worry about being overheard. Krem leads him to the stone wall where Cassandra was usually seen destroying the straw dummies. When they were less than a few feet away, his eye caught something glittering off the moonlight. Upon closer inspection, he could see it was one of El's dual-daggers, the very same one used only a few hours ago.

“If I hadn’t witnessed it, I wouldn’t have believed it,” Krem muttered. “She threw it straight into the wall, pissed at something.”

Bull put good money on what had pissed her off. The only question is what had set her off? El was easy going, slow to anger, he only ever saw her pissed when she witnessed something truly horrific or in battle or when her friends were hurt. Other than that, hardly anything ruffled her even those snooty high society nobles talked down to her.

_ But this  _ \- his finger traced the grip -  _ this is rage _ . A solid four inches, at least, was stuck in the walls. Grabbing the handle, he pulled and just like he thought, it was stuck in the wall. Summoning his strength, he tried again, his arms straining as the wall did its best to hold onto the dagger. After several minutes, Bull yanked it out, stumbling back a bit. His breath came out in pants and he glanced down at his prize. The edges were chipped and he was surprised at how much was stuck in the wall. Even if he threw as hard as possible, he doubted he could get it stuck as deep. Glancing at the hole, he noted how tightly it pressed against the blade when he was trying to pull it out. His mind was looking for any explanation to...this. His first thought was that there was already a hole but remembering how tightly stuck it was, he knew that wasn't the case.

“What do you think Chief?” Krem asked, looking at the chipped blade.

He was thinking about a lot of things, none of them good. "I think we need to investigate this more." Because his mind was thinking of all possible explanations for sudden rage and explosive strength and none of the shit was good. "Watch her closely Krem."

 

* * *

 

 

The next day was spent avoiding anyone that wanted to talk and it seemed like  _ everyone _ was seeking her out. El sighed, knowing she was being rude by avoiding those by disappearing and hiding but she was lousy company. The only positive was that she hadn’t seen Cullen at all. Right now, she didn’t know if she could see him without bursting into tears or cursing him. She didn’t want to do either so like a coward, she hid whenever she saw blond hair. Luckily, she hadn’t seen Lieutenant Hart either because El could barely keep the sneer off her face just  _ thinking _ about her. The unbridled jealousy and rage surprised her. Because it was so unlike her. Confidence, in herself and in her relationship, had kept those unpleasant feelings from surfacing. It wasn't something she enjoyed feeling and she tried to quash it but every time her mind envisioned Cullen with  _ that _ woman…

“El - I mean Inquisitor!”

The shout broke her from her inner thoughts and she glanced in the direction it was coming from. A man was waving at her and she tried to place him. Recognition flooded her as he jogged toward her.

“Sebastian! I didn’t know you were coming here.”

The man grinned, wide eyes gazing all over. “And miss seeing Skyhold and the Inquisition? Not a chance!”

She laughed at his exuberant answer. Just like a child, he gazed with wonder at everything within his line of sight. Remembering her similar reaction when coming upon Skyhold the first time, it made her smile fondly. “Would you like a tour?”

He grinned back before nodding eagerly. She laughed and was glad for the distraction. Heading left, she gestured to the stables and they head toward Dennet. Though she had offered the horsemaster an opportunity to return back to his home and family, he had insisted to remain with the Inquisition for the entirety of its existence.  _ ‘Who will care for these horses? My assistant? Oh, that’s right, I have none.’ _ El smiled at the memory. He was a little prickly but no one could have tended to these mounts better than him, so didn’t mind his sometimes sharp, witty answers.

“Most of the horses have been redistributed to foreign lands as gifts. With many of our soldiers returning home, we found that we didn’t need as many mounts.”

His eyes drifted over to the unusual mounts in the stalls. “Do you ride?”

Smiling, she went over to her usual mount, her Avvar War Nug, a gift from Thane Svarah Sun-Hair of Stone-Bear Hold. Initially, she was wary of the large mount, for it was much larger than her and had turned away from her when she tried to pet him the first time. However, after spending time feeding, cleaning, brushing him, he allowed - for she doubted she could have done anything without his permission - her to ride him. His massive size made traveling much faster and he could carry much more than normal mounts. She stroked his muzzle affectionately and he snorted, before pressing his snout back into her palm.

“This one is my main mount. As for the rest...as you can see, many of these breeds are rare and I’m afraid of them ending up in the wrong hands. The more exotic ones will remain here and given to those that will not abuse or sell them.”

“Damn right. Most nobles don’t see them more than possessions,” Dennet remarked, pausing from lifting a hay bale.

El nodded, remembering the correspondences Josephine had received after several nobles visited the stables. “Luckily, Master Dennet had agreed to take whichever ones do not find a home. He is truly a wonderful horsemaster and person.”

The man didn't respond but El smiled at the light blush dusting his cheeks. Bowing before she left, she leads Sebastian to the kitchen, where they both swiped some fresh pastries.

“This is wonderful!” he remarked, mouth full.

El nodded as she bit into the pastry. The sweet cream and tart fruit were a wonderful contrast, it filled her heart with happiness as she finished it off. “Don’t let them see you take them though. Josephine scolds me for eating so many of them.”

He let out a hearty laugh, which made her smile widely. “Do not worry, your stealing habits will remain a secret.”

“Stealing habits? Our Inquisitor?” Leliana remarked as they stepped back outside the kitchen. Standing a few steps below them, her grin grew at the panic she knew was apparent on her face. “Taking those pastries again?”

Leliana had an uncanny ability to be in the exact spot to hear something that she wasn’t supposed to hear.  _ Well, she  _ is  _ the Spymaster. _ Knowing that there was no use in lying, she nodded, before gesturing to her guest. “Sebastian is visiting and I had to let him sample these wonderful pastries as part of his tour.”

Leliana chuckled lightly. “Just don’t let Josie catch you or else you will never hear the end of it.” Turning toward Sebastian, the Spymaster nodded slightly, which he returned. “Welcome to Skyhold Sebastian. I am Leliana. From the letters you sent, I was assuming you would be coming sometime next week.”

The man smiled. “I couldn’t believe it when the Inquisitor invited me to Skyhold. I couldn’t wait another week.”

Smiling slightly at his energetic response, she turned back to her. “After the tour, I believe Josie wanted to see you in regards to some correspondences from several nobles.” She bowed slightly to Sebastian before walking away.

Unable to keep her face neutral, she made a noise in disgust. “More like letters begging me to parade around the town,” she mumbled. Realizing she said it louder than she should have, she glanced over and he gave her a wry smile.

“Guess you don’t like all the attention.”

“All I cared about was saving Thedas. This fanfare...it isn’t necessary.”

Looking impressed, he asked, “What will you do after all of this over?”

Before, she would’ve followed Cullen, worked with him on opening the clinic. With everything all out of sorts, she realized that she didn’t have  _ any _ sort of plans for herself. It made her depressed, that her future revolved around someone else’s dreams and not her own. Sensing a change in her mood, he apologized.

“No need for apologies. I just realized that I haven’t made any sort of goals. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer the Inquisition will be now that the threat of Corypheus is gone. Let’s continue the tour.”

She headed down the stairwell, past the shops and makeshift tents, and up the stairs that lead to the other half of Skyhold. But her mind was thinking about the future, her future, alone. All she had envisioned in her mind were her with Cullen, she never imagined it where she spent it partnerless. Ignoring the pain that flared in her chest, she suppressed the hurt until all that remained was the dull throb emanating from her stomach. Thinking about how everyone had gone their separate ways, gone on with his or her lives, how her companions each had a purpose. What was her purpose? All she knew these past few years was fighting, trying to prevent the destruction of the world. What skills could she offer a world that didn't need her anymore? What use does she have now?

“You guys have your own tavern. It’s huge.”

“Yes, Herald’s Rest, where you can usually find most of my soldiers when off duty. The booze isn’t the best but never runs dry.”

“Shall we get a drink?”

El nodded and guided him inside. Greeting those that addressed her, Cabot handed her a bottle and two mugs before she could even ask. She thanked him and went upstairs, as it was usually empty. Gesturing to the seat across of her, she poured him a generous helping then herself one. Clanking his mug against hers, she took a big chug, savoring the burn as it slid down her throat.

"I must thank you, Inquisitor."

“Please, no Inquisitor, call me El.”

"That I can do. My friends call me Bash because they said Sebastian is too long."

She laughed. “Okay Bash and you’re welcome. If I’m being honest, I’m glad for a friendly face.”

At that, his smile fell. “I know you we just met and you don’t know me that well but my friends do say I listen quite well.”

There was something so easy going about Bash, that made her want to spill everything but she shook her head instead. “You’re my guest, I will be a terrible host if I bore you with my problems.”

Shrugging, he didn’t look convinced. “I found that talking things out always help and no offense El, you look like you need a good vent.”

She sighed. If a practical stranger could see the problems written all over her face… “Okay but tell me if you get sick of me complaining.”

So she found herself talking about everything. Solas, Cullen, the Inquisition, losing her clan, the recent troubles with the anchor. She talked more today than she had in the past month and the words just flowed from her. She didn't realize how much she needed a friendly ear to listen, without judgment or trying to fix everything for her. He did listen quite well, only interrupting to ask questions or when confused. She ended by telling him about what happened last night in the kitchen, the hurt, anger, and rage scaring her.

Once finished, she took a deep gulp, her throat parched. Glancing outside, she was surprised it was getting dark.

“I’m sorry Bash, I didn’t mean to talk for hours or keep you here, listening to my problems.”

“Your life hasn’t been easy but it’s much more interesting than anything that Skyhold has to offer. About Cullen, I think you need to speak to him. Nothing gets solved by ignoring problems.”

Oh, she knew but the last thing she wanted to do is see Cullen. Mostly because of fear, she was scared that if she did, their relationship would end.

“And there’s no time like the present,” he added after finishing his drink.

“Huh? No!”

He topped off her drink and encouraged her to finish it off. “Nothing like a little courage booster. Let’s find Cullen!”

Grabbing her arm, she allowed herself to get tugged up out of her chair. She grumbled but let him guide her toward the exit. His grip transferred from her elbow to hand as he dragged her out of the tavern while she laughed at his antics. Her laughter drew the eyes of the soldiers and she didn’t see Bull’s eye follow her form as she left.

Together they headed toward the hall, only when there did he release her hand. Trying to suppress her laughter, she asked the guard on duty if he spotted Cullen.

“Inquisitor, I spotted him in the garden.” He hesitated a bit before adding, “with Lieutenant Hart.”

Instantly, her joy sank and she was plunged into the depths of rage. Not wanting to show her new guest/friend the darkness in her heart, she thanked the soldier before taking Bash's hand. She leads him to the door on the left, making sure not to look at the Fresco paintings, up the stairs and to the door that opens to the balcony that Vivienne used to frequent. Bash gasped and awed at it all, making some of her anger die at his innocent wonder. Finally, she guides him to the upstairs balcony that overlooked the garden.

“Why are we here?” He asked.

 

She shushed him and pointed to the pair that was downstairs under the gazebo.

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen inhaled deeply, trying to sort his nerves but failing. These last few days had been trying, and he needed to set something right before he could heal and process what had happened. The garden had always been one of his favorite spots, peaceful and where he could relax and not be Commander but plain Cullen Rutherford from Honnleath.

“Commander, you asked to see me?” Lieutenant Hart appeared, and he gave her a small smile before guiding her toward the gazebo. Noting the blush on her cheeks, Cullen’s nervousness roared back and he could feel his stomach clench in uneasiness.

“Lieutenant Hart, I’ve noticed that - um - Maker’s breath, I thought this would be easier.”

The woman smiled and if Cullen were not mourning, he would’ve thought it beautiful. “Commander Cullen, please call me Eve when not on duty.”

“Er, yes, Eve. As I said, I’ve noticed that you have been around a lot more these past few days…”

Eve shocked him by pressing a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him. Then she closed the distance, hands gently cradling his face and brushing her lips against his. Unable to comprehend what was happening, a few moments pass before he gently grasps her arms and pushes her away from him. Her eyes were wide in a variety of emotions, shock, hunger, lust, and then disappointment.

"Forgive me, Eve. You are a wonderful woman, however, I am-"

“In love with the Inquisitor.” A sigh of defeat left her lips before she nodded in understanding. “I understand Commander and forgive me for being so forward.”

A huge weight lifted at her words, he had prayed that she would take the news well. There were many stories he heard about what happens when someone is spurned, and he thanked the Maker for keeping it civil, the discomfort a small price to pay versus the alternative. However, now he wondered if he had given her the wrong idea. Before his interactions with the Lieutenant were work-related but when she started appearing by his side more often, he didn't question it. It was only after Leliana had mentioned it that he noticed. The looks, her curiosity about his life, bringing him meals, Andraste forgive him for being dense.

“If I had lead you on Eve, then please forgive me.”

The woman blushed. “I’m sorry, I had heard rumors that you had left the Inquisitor. Someone had said that you were interested in me. Maker, I was a fool!”

The quiver he heard made him feel awful and he grasped her hand. “You are a wonderful woman Eve, and you are one of my most loyal and skilled warriors. Any person would be lucky to have your affection.”

At his words, she gave him a brilliant smile, cupping a cheek tenderly. It was intimate, with him holding her hand and her so close but he allowed it as he knew that it was comforting to her. “You are a good man Cullen. The Inquisitor is a lucky woman.”

Grabbing her hand, he allowed a genuine smile to grace his face, something that had been missing these past few days. “I am the lucky one.” He released her hand. “Good night Lieutenant.”

She bowed slightly towards him. "Goodnight Commander." Then she left.

Once alone, he let out a huge sigh. That was ended as well as he could have hoped for but he would not want to go through that again.  _ If there are rumors, then I must speak with El before I leave _ .

 

* * *

 

 

Walking toward the inquisitor's bedroom, she noted the muffled sounds coming from within and she knocked. There was shuffling before Sebastian opened the door a sliver and he sagged in relief. She was surprised to see the man up here but kept her face neutral. Opening the door wider, she saw that El was laying down, face turned away from her. The slight shaking of her shoulders told her all she needed to know. Tilting her head to the man, they stepped outside her door.

“What happened?” she asked once the door was shut.

The man grimaced. “It was Cullen. She saw something...”

Leliana swore lightly, remembering that she saw  _ that  _ woman entering the garden where Cullen was waiting. When the Inquisitor and Cullen had initially started seeing each other, she was ecstatic because she didn't think that El would ever move on from Solas. She had seen how much damage the apostate did to the Inquisitor and she didn't know how to comfort the woman during that troubling time. Those sort of things were more Josie's specialties, however, the Inquisitor didn't seek out anyone for advice or to talk. But now… It made her want to shoot some arrows at the Commander.  _ This is the worst possible timing! _ Her spies had told her of whispers among the nobles about the Inquisition. They were worried about such a large army, under no banner, and close to their borders. She had a feeling that they would be called upon soon. Any show of weakness would kill the Inquisition and though many believed their fight to be over, she could feel trouble brewing in the horizon.

“I understand. Please tell the Inquisitor to speak with either me or Josephine when she’s ready.”

 

The man nodded before entering back into the room. Leliana huffed in irritation. She wanted to shake Cullen but she doubted she would stop at just shaking him. When she saw the woman making those doe eyes at him, and him being his usual blind, obtuse self, she had to speak up and say something. What she had hoped was him to tell the woman to get lost - honestly, the Inquisitor could have asked her to do it and at this point, she was thinking about doing it without any prompting. El wasn’t like that, she was kind, kinder than most people in her position. And now they were left with this...situation to deal with.

Heading back down, she needed to inform Josie of what happened and maybe she would speak to the Inquisitor on her behalf. Opening the door that opens to the hallway, she was surprised when Cullen's face appeared before hers. The man yelped as he stepped back, which would have been comical if not for the current situation.

“Commander.”

His eyes narrowed at her cool tone, but he didn’t question her. “Is El in her room? I need to speak with her.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded. “However, she’s requesting no one to bother her at all. She’s had a very trying day.” The last part she made sure to add a little venom.

Cullen's face fell and a sliver of compassion sparked her as she looked at his expression. "I can leave her a letter if you wish." That made him perk up and he rushed off in a hurry. Leliana waited by the door, guarding it and making sure that Cullen remained far away from the Inquisitor. She may not know what to say but if she could do anything, she could try to give her privacy and time to heal. Cullen returned a few minutes later, a letter clutched in his hands, which he handed to her.

“I also need to inform you that I’m leaving Skyhold,” he stated once she tucked the letter safely away.

Unable to keep her shock contained, she blinked and stared at him incredulously. “Leaving?”  _ What was going on? _

“Not permanently. I received a letter from my sister today. My brother, Branson, is ill. She’s asking for me to return home and for assistance. I was hoping that the Inquisition can spare one of the healers.”

Her anger deflated at the news and she nodded. “Speak with Kya. I hope your brother recovers.”

Worry covered his face, the man sighed. “Thank you Leliana. Please ensure that El reads the letter.” He soon left her alone, probably to prepare for the journey. Though her previous anger hadn’t completely dissipated, she prayed for Branson and that they could heal him.

She headed back upstairs and knocked on the door. Sebastian opened it much like the first time, only a sliver before opening it to step out. Pulling the letter out, she didn’t say anything when she handed it to him. He nodded in thanks before going back inside. Leliana sighed, today had been exhausting.  _ Maybe I can convince Josie to take a break with me _ . She had some leftover wine that was calling to her.

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get rolling. One more chapter before the events of Trespasser and a lot of shit is going to go sideways for our Inquisitor. Next chapter will have Cullen's return to home, El's continued downward spiral, Kya's diagnosis and other stuff crammed in there. Thank you to those that read, kudo, and comment on this. Y'all are amazing! Though the next semester is starting soon, I know I'll be procrastinating like I always do and writing instead :D
> 
> Oh yeah, quick question. Do you like longer worded chapters or shorter ones, because I've been averaging about 6k a chapter and I could probably break it in half or even thirds (most likely deliver it faster too). Let me know if you'd like smaller chapters.


	4. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El wonders what to do about the letter as she gets closer to Bash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I must apologize for the long wait. This past year, I've found myself in a deep hole where I no longer enjoyed things that I once did (such as writing or video games). I'm still climbing out and starting to get back into the groove. Whoever stuck around, thank you. 
> 
> Second, this chapter had to be split apart as my word count was reaching about 20k. So, I decided to split it into 3 chapters. 
> 
> As always, this hasn't been beta'd, so please excuse any mistakes.

 Okay, I've added some reference picture of what Bash looks like cause even though I could describe him, I think this picture would do much better justice

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146931520@N08/47821698572/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

* * *

 

The letter shook in her hand, unopened. It weighed down on her and the dread she felt crawled over her body, slowly pressed unto her, it was suffocating.

Placing the letter on her desk, her mind dueled over what to do with it. One small part of her was curious to read what Cullen had wrote, even though she knew it was not good news. That part of her craved answers, to know why, to give her some sense of closure. The other, larger part demanded that she discard the letter, without opening or reading it. Whatever the excuse, the reason, it wouldn’t make her feel better now, her mind argued.

Looking at her wrecked room, the furniture had the unfortunate privilege of being the outlet for her rage earlier this evening. When she had all but fled from _that_ scene, Bash following in tow, she had barely made it to her room before she collapsed in laughter. It was sudden, consuming. She should’ve had tears, sobs, anything that reflected her dying heart, but the only sound that came out was loud, uncontrollable laughter. Any other friend or acquaintance would’ve questioned her sudden outburst but he had done something so bizarre, it all but stopped her fit. He shoved a porcelain statue into her fist. Confused, she looked at the figure of Andraste forever immortalized in beautiful detail, then back at him. Huffing, he came over, pulled her onto her feet, and he cocked her arm back and flung it against the stone wall. The resounding crash was deafening, shocking, it made her forget about the knife digging its way into her chest. Soon after, vases crushed, books torn asunder, clothing knifed, furniture deposited over the railing, nothing had escaped damage - minus the bed because she really did love sleeping in it. If she did read the letter and it was filled with what she had expected, her bed would not survive and she really did not want that to happen.

Glancing back at the letter, she snorted before tossing the letter into the fire. she watched as the dying embers slowly turning the edges into ash. There was a hollowness in her as she watched the fire, it clawed at her, threatening to crush her under its weight. Much like that time after Solas had ended, it was familiar and she didn’t want to go down that path again. _Just shove it all away, don’t think about it._

“Bash?”

The man raised his head from her bed. “Yes?”

“Let’s get drunk.”

“Ugh, I don’t think my stomach can handle it.”

She laughed as she gazed at his pained expression. “C’mon, I need my drinking buddy to keep me company.”

“Fine, fine. But just letting you know, your booze sucks.” He ended just above a whisper.

Grinning at him, she nodded. “It does but drink enough and it all tastes the same.”

“You got me there.”

Seeing him not moving from the bed, she asked, “So are we going?”

Tossing her a wicked grin that made her flush, he let his head fall back onto her pillow. “I would love that but this bed is so comfortable…”

She chuckled as she marched over to his side. With her hands on her hips, a stern face, she glared at him for several seconds, taking in his boyish grin, before laughter forced her to break. Something soft smashed her face and she looked down at his overly innocent face.

“Did you just hit me with a pillow?”

His response was to try to hit her again. Ducking under the swing, she climbed over him, hand grabbing the other pillow. Laughing, she smacked him hard with the other pillow, hearing him grunt as it hit him in his face. That turned into a full blown fight with the feathery items, both cackling as they attacked each other. Only when he called for a truce did she stop. Falling in bed next to him, she gazed at the ceiling, cheeks hurting from grinning and laughing. A comfortable silence fell between them and she marveled at how at ease she felt. Only to be interrupted by the loudest stomach gurgle coming from her. Mortified, she reddened as he erupted into laughter.

“Let’s go get some food.”

 

/////

 

“Dammit,” she cursed. It was too late and the kitchen was empty. “Looks like the cooks went to bed.”

Grabbing a fruit, he tossed it to her, which she deftly caught. “So what do elves eat?”

This was a question she heard often. “Children, of course. Only after a full moon though, something about it makes it taste better. Many people don’t know this but it allows us to turn into dragons.” With the most serious voice she could muster. How wide his eyes grew before he tossed a pastry at her. “Hey! That was the good dessert!”

“I was being serious, you ass.”

Chuckling lightly, she grabbed some random fruits before chucking it into a basket. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ve just been asked that so many times before and wanted to have some fun...as for food, we survived on hunting and gathering of whatever we could find, usually nugs, rams, occasionally bear when there were enough hunters.” She grabbed another empty basket and began to fill it with pastries, ignoring the light teasing about her choice of food. “Coming to the Inquisition allowed me to taste so many new foods, I don’t think I can go back to the old ways...even if I was given a chance.” The last part added darkly.

“What does that mean?”

Unable and unwilling to go down that path, she shook her head. “Just memories I don’t want to relive.” Even that small mention filled her with sorrow, her throat tight, and the tears beginning to blur her vision. Try as she might, this wasn’t something she could push away like everything else. Tears swelled and she hastily turned away from him, busying herself whilst trying to get a handle on her emotions.

Warm hands grasped her shoulders lightly, turning her towards him.

“You’re thinking about your clan again?” He asked, eyes gazing at her in concern.

She looked away from those kind eyes, a few stray tears spilling onto her cheeks. “All these years, the pain has never faded. Just a single thought is enough to crush me..”

Clumsy fingers wiped away those tears. “You mentioned you lost them the other day, what happened to them?”

Ignoring the warmth of his hands and actions, she let the darkness take over her face, the unbridled rage twisting her expression. “They were murdered,” she stated. “And the man responsible still lives.” She all but spat the last part. Tears forgotten, the anger drowned her sorrow, making her eyes dry, heart hard.

Hands still gripping her shoulders, his expression was a cross between confused and angry. “How is that possible that he’s still alive?”

Unable to gaze at his concerned eyes, her gaze focused at the wall over her shoulder. This was a question that she had asked multiple times to Leliana and to herself. “My Spymaster asked if I wanted to do something about it but that was right before we fought Corypheus, it wasn’t the time for personal vendettas. Afterward, when everything was all settled, it was too late. Duke Antoine struck treaties with neighboring powers, including Queen Celene. Josephine told me that any action would destabilize the region and cripple Wycome, it would be a death sentence to its citizens. And if it was discovered that the Inquisition was responsible...” Josephine didn’t need to say it, she knew that they would be the first suspects especially her, because of her connection. Besides being a serious crime, it would harm all the good that the Inquisition has done. Despite how she felt and what she wanted to do, she knew that she couldn’t do anything about it. It didn’t change her feelings though, instead it festered like an old injury that didn’t heal properly.

There was no response from him, only a hug that she sunk into gratefully. They remained like that for a while, with her allowing herself to seek comfort in his arms. Everything that had gone wrong these past few days faded, the anger and sadness felt more manageable around him. This short time she felt close to him, as close as she did with Dorian. As usual, her mind began to question it but she ignored it. Unlike everything else, she wasn’t going to overthink and ruin it.

“So where do you hide the good booze?” he asked when she finally disengaged from him.

Grinning despite her tears and sadness, she answered, “What makes you think I'm hiding the good stuff?”

No response except for a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, alright.” She brought her head close to his, fighting to not blush as he didn’t pull away. “Josephine has the key to the cellar, think you can swipe it while I distract her?”

A grin broke over his handsome face. “A secret mission?”

To which she giggled before nodding. In the farthest reaches of her mind, there were whispers, wishing that Cullen wouldn’t come back.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was debating whether to put the picture up but I spent so much time on the character creation, it would be waste not to show everyone my hard work :D Seriously though, I think I've spent many hours tweaking how the character looks, it's not even funny. I know it was pretty short but the next chapter will be quite long. Next chapter will focus on Cullen and his return to his family. Thank you for reading, feedback is always appreciated.


End file.
